


Unpredictable

by isthisenoughorcanwegohigher



Series: Damaged [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: 'hey wouldn't it be great if you left it on a cliffhanger', Blood and Injury, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, and if you choose to read it regardless, don't ever encourage me to make things worse than i've started to make them because I Will, it's in three parts because two of my friends said, please don't read this if it'll trigger you, please take care of yourself, this is entirely self indulgent and a way to deal with my own struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 02:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isthisenoughorcanwegohigher/pseuds/isthisenoughorcanwegohigher
Summary: Thomas gets a call from Newt, who has been struggling with work lately. It's a very lucky thing Thomas is out of work early, because Newt calls him in the midst of a suicide attempt.





	Unpredictable

**Author's Note:**

> _Pick you up if you fall to pieces  
>  Let me be the one to save you_

It was a damn lucky thing that Thomas got out of work early that day. He knew it was the low point in the season for Newt’s line of work. People didn’t really like standing out in the sun for hours just for a couple of nice photos in the summer, but Newt stuck by his photography business regardless.

In fact, today he was supposed to have been meeting with a potential client about a big shoot once the fall started. But Thomas hadn’t heard a words from his boyfriend of three years since late morning, when he’d been about to meet with the client.

Unsure whether or not he would be getting home to good or bad news, Thomas had been on edge all day as a result, which nearly cost him a month’s work in the lab when he almost screwed up the sterilization process.

He was in the car on his way home when his phone rang, interrupting the song that was echoing through the speakers. It was Newt’s ringtone.

Thomas nearly swerved into the next lane in his haste to answer the call.

“Newt?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment too long, which only made the panic threading its way through his veins increase in its heart-pounding insistence.

“Newt?” Thomas asked again. He could hear the strain in his own voice.

The reply was breathless, airy, and equally as strained. “Thomas….”

“Newt, is everything okay?”

“I messed up.”

His blood ran cold. It took everything in Thomas to stop the car on time as he came up to a red light. He knew Newt had a past he didn’t like to talk about, and he’d seen the scars on Newt’s wrists before.

Thomas breathed slowly, in to the count of three, out to the count of five. In his silence, he heard Newt sniffle.

“What do you mean?” Thomas stared at the red light, trying to convince himself that whatever it was, it wasn’t as bad as he feared. It couldn’t be.

Newt sniffled again, softer this time. His breathing sounded more erratic. 

“Thomas, I–Tommy, I don’t want to die.” The confession came out as a whine.

Thomas wasn’t sure how he was still driving even marginally safely. All he could focus on was his tightening grip on the steering wheel and the cold settling on his shoulders.

“Newt, you aren’t going to die.” Who was he trying to reassure?

“There’s so much blood,” Newt whimpered. “I didn’t–I didn’t mean to go so deep. There’s so much,” he repeated.

Shit. He had to do something. He had to call an ambulance. He couldn’t leave Newt alone.

“You aren’t going to die, Newt.” Thomas was surprised by how firm his voice was. He could feel himself shaking. “I’m not going to let that happen, okay?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Newt? I’m not going to let anything happen to you, understand?”

Another beat of silence, and then, “Yeah.”

Thomas exhaled slowly. “Okay. Good. Newt?”

“Yeah?” The response was sluggish.

“Newt, I need you to call Minho, okay?” That should work, Thomas thought. Minho should be home, and he could get to Newt faster than Thomas, who was stuck in traffic and on the verge of a panic attack, could. “I need you to hang up and call Minho, and I’m going to call an ambulance, okay, baby? Can you do that?”

Newt’s response was delayed enough that Thomas hit the steering wheel in frustration. He was maybe ten minutes from home and at a stand still.

“Okay,” Newt said so quietly that Thomas almost missed it.

“Okay,” Thomas repeated. “Good. Newt?”

“Thomas–”

“I love you.”

The answering sound of the call ending reverberated in the car. The swell of panic threatened to wash over Thomas. He took another deep breath, hoped to God that Newt was calling Minho, and dialed 911.                

* * *

 

Newt was vaguely aware of the phone finally slipping from his grasp in the middle of his call to Minho, who had immediately panicked. He was even less aware of the bathroom door slamming open and bouncing off the wall, surely leaving a dent.

Dimly Newt heard Minho. He knew Minho must have been screaming, but with the ringing in his ears, Newt found it almost impossible to hear his friend.

The lights in the bathroom blurred and swam in his vision, and Newt wanted to study them, to let them be the last things he might see, because the kaleidoscope of colors beginning to appear was beautiful.

If he was going to die today, then he was going to die watching something magical, something that made him smile, and he was going to enjoy it like he’d never enjoyed anything else. He deserved that, at least. Dying happy.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to not agree with Newt’s plans, because the blurred face of Minho replaced the lights. Newt frowned.

“Move out of the way,” he tried to say, but the words came out garbled and slurred.

Minho was speaking to him, a mile a minute, but Newt still couldn’t understand. He tried to move an arm to swat Minho away, make the boy understand that this may not have been what Newt intended, but it was what he wanted, couldn’t Minho just let him be happy?

His movements were impeded, though, and instead of clinging to the happiness he felt, Newt was overtaken by a sharp and fiery pain. Minho was pressing towels down on Newt’s bloody arms, and it hurt like hell.

The next thing that came out of Newt’s mouth was crystal clear. “Please,” he said, eyes desperately scanning for any sign that the boy with him might just let him die. “Please, Minho. Please.”

Minho shook his head, silent. He was barely succeeding in holding back his tears.

Newt tried to speak again, but Minho cut him off. Newt heard him this time, and his heart broke with fresh guilt.

“Thomas is on his way,” Minho whispered, voice thick. “He’s gonna be here, and the paramedics are gonna be here, and you’re gonna live, Newt. I’m not gonna let you die, you hear me?”

Newt tried again to speak, to reply, but he blinked, and his eyes didn’t open again.


End file.
